Concluded Delusions
by 0841 Unyielding Temperance
Summary: Multiple crossovers, though primarily HTTYD centered. Some concepts and character models from other universes. Wizarding Britain, 2004. A new force has risen in the countryside, dimensions being thrown into chaos by the attack of Centaurs, Elites and Squibs. Astrid, a young Hogwarts-trained soldier, is on the front lines when a new friend shows her the Truth. Or the Delusion.
1. Prologue

**Prologue. 2002**

The atmosphere was as it always was in the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

It was warm, lively, and above all very cosy for Astrid Hofferson as she sat with the bunch of friends she'd known since she had joined this school as a first year. The same friendly bunch who had supported each other, allowing them all to climb the ladder upward into greatness.

Kristoff, the burly blonde. Eugene, the sly flirt and love interest of Rapunzel, another blonde who specialized in healing remedies and potions. Merida, the Scottish redhead who simply loved to fight. It didn't matter what weapon had been set in her hands. Like Astrid, she devoted herself utterly to mastering it, and the two could often be seen sparring with each other in deserted corners of the school, using either Transfigured swords, wands, or sometimes even both.

And then of course, the centre of their little group, Anna Arendelle. Second daughter of the Minister of Magic himself, the girl radiated warmth and kindness that seemed to touch many people around her, simply drawing them to her and winning the girl many friends among the school's population, delighting them with her humility and charm.

Astrid wasn't one for charm, but what she did respect was the way that Anna stood out from under the shadow of her sister, and was not daunted by her at all.

Speak of the devil, there she was.

The Ice Queen of Hogwarts School herself, walking towards the Slytherin table, flanked on both sides by Jack Frost, resident troublemaker, and of course, how could she forget…

_Hiccup_.

She'd been astounded when that useless runt in the forge had shown up in front of Stoick with his letter of acceptance to this school, and had been among those who had laughed along with Snotlout, believing it to be a prank. She'd been astounded however, when the Chief had simply nodded, and gestured for him to join the others on their way to the Muggle lands.

Still, she believed no amount of magic would help to improve someone as _unmotivated_ as Hiccup. His whole life he'd spent in the forge, cowering from dragons and attempting to devise ways and means to kill them from afar without getting his hands dirty. She scoffed. The only way to kill a dragon with any _honour_ was up close, and everyone knew it. This school taught more than just that, sure, but when faced with a beast as ugly, stupid and brainless as a dragon, who wouldn't want to kill them? Vikings had been doing it for millennia, wizards for less time, but they had also received experience.

Vikings' very existence was threatened by the almost weekly raids that stole livestock and food from them while the dragons' relentless onslaught pounded the fragile houses of Berk to rubble. It was her duty to learn to fight dragons in a mix of warrior and wizard fighting styles, and by the gods she would see it done.

Astrid did not snicker along with the others in her little group as they saw Snotlout trip Hiccup over, causing him to fall flat on his face. But then, neither did she feel any pity or sympathy for the auburn-haired student, with her in their fifth year at Hogwarts.

People like him, who showed no interest in learning to fight and kill for the sake of their very existence, were not worth her time.

What was worth her time however, was the result of the Triwizard Cup's week-long blaze, in which it would come to choose a single student from Hogwarts who would compete in the Triwizard Tournament, a friendly competition between three European magical schools.

Astrid had not entered herself into the competition, since she had come to the conclusion that being killed during one of the challenges would be a waste of the amount of effort she'd spent training to defend Berk from the dragons. She had no doubt that Snotlout had put his name in, and even hoped he'd get chosen and die, if only to rid herself of another irritant.

If not for the fact that the Tournament was all that Anna could speak about now, she would have eaten her food in silence, completely in her own world.

She had disapproved at first, and she still disapproved. There were other ways to prove yourself to a sister who shuns you and a family that has no time for you than simply signing up to join a highly dangerous Tournament almost guaranteed to cause severe injury and in some cases death. But unlike Kristoff, who had cursed for many days at his girlfriend's recklessness, Astrid recognized that it was not her decision and stood back to the side lines.

The blonde Gryffindor was extremely entertained by the volume of conversation going around in the group.

"Anna if you get it, I know you'll win! You're so brave and smart, I know you'll win!"

"Besides, it's definitely something if one of ours gets chosen instead of one of those stuck up Slytherins and Ravenclaws."

"Especially _the_ stuck-up Slytherin," Anna said, and the rest of the group laughed heartily. Astrid turned around and was surprised to see Hiccup's eyes resting on the group from his seat beside Jack at the Slytherin table, some emotion that she couldn't identify present inside his forest green eyes. Briefly, they locked eyes, before the auburn-haired wizard simply turned his head back to his food.

"Attention all students!" Called Headmaster Weselton from his perch at the podium, putting his wand near his throat. Astrid turned away from Hiccup and his little group of misfits, focusing all her attention on the Headmaster.

"I believe, the time has come, for the Cup to show us our champions!" he said, only to be met with resounding applause and loud cheers from all the occupants of the hall, most of all from Astrid's friends. Squeals of anticipation in French and some toasts in Bulgarian rang out across the hall as well, before the Headmaster raised his hand again, to silence them. As if on cue, the Cup's flame began to glow red, silencing the entire hall as a loud hiss fired the first slip of paper into the air.

"From Beauxbatons Academy," said the Headmaster, "we have Adalene Babineaux!" Loud cheers erupted from the girls in blue uniforms as Miss Babineaux ascended the stage, then left the Hall. Astrid scoffed at the boys who badgered her for a kiss as she walked.

"From Durmstrang Institute, we have Viktor Astakhov!"

More cheers, which Astrid simply tuned out. The other competitors did not matter to her, since her interest level regarding the Tournament was virtually zero. She only cared about the champion of _Hogwarts_.

"And from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…" the Headmaster trailed off, as he squinted into the piece of paper he held in his hand. Astrid's heartbeat began to increase.

"Elsa Arendelle!"

A silence fell over the hall, all whispering and murmuring simply dying down as the platinum blonde stood and walked over to the exit silently. As she passed by the Gryffindor table however, Anna stood up.

"Why do you have to do this to me?!" she yelled in Elsa's face, causing the blonde to stop and stare at her.

"Why do you always have to outshine me in _everything_? You get more than enough praise at home from papa and mama, why take it away from me! Do you know how lonely it is in that house?!

"Papa and mama don't notice me, and you just shut yourself inside that room of yours all day!" The whole hall continued to stay silent as they watched Anna vent her hurt, her anger, and most of all her jealousy on Elsa. Astrid cringed as she saw Anna's face getting closer and closer to just crumpling and her eyes begin to leak tears as she continued to yell.

"Honestly, Elsa!" she shouted again, before she stopped, and asked in a small voice.

"Would it kill you to just _acknowledge_ me, before you go back to being a perfect, proper Slytherin?"

Astrid held her breath as Elsa seemed to contemplate her words for a moment, before releasing it upon realizing it would never come. There was a soft cough, before Anna's knees simply buckled and she fell backwards into her seat, borne aloft only by the hands of Kristoff and Rapunzel, glaring straight at Elsa with hatred. They were ignored as the Ice Queen simply continued walking forward.

As she turned away though however, she thought she saw Hiccup sheath his wand, before he and Jack both stood and left the Great Hall.


	2. Chapter 2

_Two years later. 2004_

**_The Fall of Reach_**

"Retreat! Fall back, fall back!"

Astrid dodged a bolt of blue light sizzling past her temple and sheathed her wand, turning to face the reindeer that was Kristoff's Patronus. Around her, the gathered Aurors continued to fire curses and hexes into the approaching enemy. "Ma'am, we've got Centaurs on our left flank, we're barely holding! _Impedimenta_!" The green cloaked Auror fired off an Impediment Jinx, slowing down his Centaur opponent just long enough for another to stun it. A hail of arrows was stopped by a well-cast Shield Charm and returned by a volley of Stunning spells.

Astrid wiped the grit from her eyes and turned back to the Patronus. "What do you mean fall back?" She yelled. "We can hold out against the Centaurs!"

Kristoff's Patronus shook its head. "Our right flank has been overrun by the Goblins. Fred says he sees Elites coming towards us. We have to leave. _Now_." Not sparing her another glance, the Patronus disintegrated into silver mist, moving distinctly towards the back of the line. Astrid stared after it despondently, her wand falling to point to the ground. Around her, the sounds of battle continued to rage on. The whine of curses flying across the battlefield and the whistle of arrows were muted momentarily as she took a good look across the battlefield.

Approximately five hundred witches, wizards and warlocks had been gathered in the defence of Reach, somewhere in the English countryside. Aurors, Ministry Specialists and those few most powerful students of Hogwarts waved their wands every which way, firing their Curses and Hexes. Currently, the situation could still hold. It had to. If Reach fell, then Diagon Alley would come next, and all the pocket dimensions accessible from it. Fortunately for them, Centaurs with bows and arrows couldn't do much against such well-trained wizards.

But if the Elites appeared, then that complicated things.

"AGH! I'M HIT! I'M HIT!" Astrid whipped her head back to the small band of Aurors she commanded, the one named Finch clutching his shoulder. Or what was left of it. Without a word, she threw up a Shield Charm around them, as another five bolts of blue light exploded against them. The Auror's shoulder had been completely torn apart, a shard of bone protruding from it, leaking blood which stained the snow red. Small burns and blisters dotted the rest of his arm, and his leather vest had all but melted into sludge, now steaming upon contact with the snow. The unmistakeable wound of an Elite directed energy weapon. The silhouette of an Auror running back in terror prompted her head's turn back to the battlefield, and the sight which greeted her was not pretty.

Green, blue and yellow eyes peeking out of the darkness, glowing and pulsing with an inner fire. Vaguely saurian creatures advanced in the half-crouch that their anatomy allowed, the lights on the edges of their armour plating winking with every step. An explosion in the background highlighted a gold-armoured Elite, its chest, arms and thighs covered in pieces of golden armour. Black under-armour blended in with its black scales, transitioning back into golden armour plating that covered those massive feet. Astrid couldn't tell whether they were hooves or talons. The gold Elite raised a curved piece of metal in its hands, flicking its wrist. From both ends, a half-moon of bluish-white energy appeared, extending forward away from the Elite with a crackling hiss. The end result was a two-pronged, double bladed sword composed out of pure energy, small arcs of electricity running down its length.

Astrid watched in a mixture of horror and fascination as the Elite suddenly rolled to the right with unprecedented agility, the sword somehow not piercing it as it sprang up again on the other side. In the blink of an eye the sword's hand flashed upwards, blocking two Stunning spells before the Elite pointed it forward and fired its own blast of magic. A dark-clad seventh year was instantly vaporized, and his companion tried to crawl away. Not even rejoicing in victory, the Elite brought its sword down, both prongs of energy piercing leather and steel, stabbing through the helpless student and into the snow. The way this monster killed wizards was like a machine. No part of its actions even hinted as to its part-human, part-dragon origins.

Either way, the battle was already lost. The Elites were advancing ruthlessly, their bluish bolts of magical energy blasting through shoddy Shield Charms from Specialists and blowing them to pieces. Most of the line around Astrid's position was already withdrawing, even as their comrades up front were slaughtered.

"Fall back!" She yelled, raising her wand to her throat to strengthen her voice. The members of the squad kept their wands up to support the shield, but listened over the pained cries of their wounded comrade. "Get him out first!" Astrid pointed at the wounded Auror. "Make your way out of the non-Apparation zone and fall back to Knockturn Alley."

"What about you, ma'am?"

Astrid's eyes darkened as she raised her wand, staring forward. "I'll stay behind. Someone needs to hold them off."

Several of the men raised their eyebrows as they Levitated the wounded Auror. Dawson crooned words of encouragement to him from the side, as the second in command, Hamish, looked up at her. He saluted, and she returned it. Then, he and the rest of the men vanished into the mist.

Astrid turned back around, wand at the ready, seeing the glowing eyes of five Elites advancing on her position. Their swords were held aloft, rather incompetent for Elites, for their positions couldn't have possibly been clearer.

_Well, here goes nothing._ "_Bombarda_!"

* * *

><p><strong><em>Unless You Mean To Shoot<em>**

Astrid fought like a true Hofferson, tooth and nail. Firing off every single curse and jinx she knew save for the Unforgivable ones, the Elites were hit by a hail of blue energy bolts. One of them fell immediately, a delayed Exploding spell going off near his neck. Two of his companions staggered back, their personal Shield Charms depleted and sparking blue flares. Retrieving two playing cards from within the folds of her skirt, Astrid threw them straight forward, slicing their necks and staining the snow with indigo blood. A swift duel began with the fourth Elite, Astrid scrambling to block every blast of magic sent her way. Her arms ached with the impact of a dozen _expulso_ spells from the muzzle of the next Elite's metallic weapon, green, blue and red bolts flying back and forth between them.

As she recovered from the toll of casting an Impediment Jinx however, the Elite pulled the same trick that she'd pulled on his comrades. A throwing knife sliced straight into her shoulder blade, causing all feeling in her arm to simply disappear. The blonde witch fell to the ground, her arm flailing and her wand disappearing into the undergrowth. Frantically, she tried to crawl towards it, the already worn arms dragging herself across the icy ground, cold spears of ice digging into her bare skin. Astrid screamed as a sudden pain exploded in her lower thigh. Moaning from the effort, she turned her head around to see the Elite's foot crushing downwards into her limb, pushing her down as it laughed.

The Elite leered closer, its breath steaming in the frigid, chilly air as its mandibles opened and it seemed to take in her scent. Its yellowish eyes closed, and when they opened again the pupils were dilated. Astrid squirmed and screamed, punching the body of the Elite repeatedly, and yet each time her fist met nothing but resistance, the blue Shield Charm around it flaring. The Elite roared in fury, opening its mandibles as large as the silver armour plates would allow. Then, it composed itself, slowly drawing its sword and allowing the blade to ignite. Around Astrid, the battlefield was deserted, not a single living soul left save for the other Elites that were looting supplies. She was going to die alone, and no one would save her. Her squad was probably already far off in fortified Knockturn Alley.

Throwing her arms down in frustration, Astrid refused to face the Elite as it continued to leer at her, relishing in her fear. Though her sight was blurred with tears, she refused to allow them to flow and lose her honour. She would face death, but she would do so with honour. She'd fought to the best of her ability, taken down three of the enemy, without even using her knife.

_My knife!_

Astrid threw off her bout of self-consolation and focused, forcing the tears back into their ducts. There, concealed within a fold of her fur hood, was a knife. The knife that had served her since she was a child, perfectly balanced and weighted, yet engraved with designs that not even Goblins could master. Its name was _Cortana_, named after the legendary sword of Ogier the Dane. _My name is Cortana, of the same steel and temper as Joyeuse and Durendal._ The legendary words carved into the handle of the knife echoed through her head, and she steeled herself.

The Elite lowered its head down to the folds of her skirt, sniffing lightly. Astrid stiffened a little as she felt its warm breath on the inside of her thighs, the feeling permeating even through her leggings. Yet, she repressed all thoughts of revulsion and even spread her legs a little, causing the Elite to let out an almost happy snort. They were after all, literally humans at heart. Her hands, now freed from the overconfident Elite, rummaged through her hood, eventually finding purchase on the hilt of _Cortana_ and forcing her from her sheath. Not wasting a second, Astrid flipped the knife such that the blade faced up. With a lightning fast sweep of her hand, the pommel slammed into the base of the Elite's head. The saurian creature roared in pain and anger at this sudden turn of events, its Shield flaring. At the same time, Astrid brought her knees up with a yell, driving the spikes of her skirt into the Shield charm, shattering it completely in a blast of blue sparks. The Elite reared back, roaring in fury as its armour hissed and crackled, the Shield struggling to reform itself. It ignited the sword and took a swing at Astrid.

The energy sword made almost no sound as it flashed towards Astrid. Time seemed to slow down as she ducked under the decapitating slash, her legs folding beneath her and resulting in only her hair getting singed. In a split second, the soles of her boots touched the ground and she pushed off, sending herself flying forward through the recovering arc of the Elite's frantic slash, and latching onto its frontal armour plating. Once anchored, Astrid raised an arm and with a final yell of triumph, stabbed her knife into the throat of the Elite. Even as the Elite frantically began to gargle and claw at its assailant, the young Valkyrie continued to stab with no sign of stopping, relishing in the feel of _Cortana_'s slender blade cutting through the dark, ridged scales of the Elite, enjoying each and every spurt of indigo blood that came from the neck wound. Eventually, the Elite stopped struggling, simply keeling backward and falling into a pool of its own comrade's blood, still choking faintly on its own. Astrid made final eye contact with the disbelieving yellow eyes that stared out through slits on the red ornate helmet, before the light left them. Spitting on her dead foe, she stood, looking around the area for her wand.

_Clink… clatter._

The sound of wood hitting the stone beneath the snow made Astrid look up in confusion. To her incredulity, sitting right there on the rock, rolling slightly from side to side, was her wand. She rushed forward and picked up the piece of yew, thanking the gods. There was no way she would have been able to leave without her wand. Now there was hope yet, in getting to safety, and living to fight another day.

Then, she looked up, and her heart sank.

In front of her, its hand clutching the curved handle of an energy sword, was the gold-armoured Elite from earlier. Its ornate headpiece shrouded most of the helmet's front in shadow, only allowing the glow of two bright blue eyes to leak through. Yet these eyes held none of the anger or taunting of the previous Elite. These eyes were shrewd, cunning and spoke of only a desire to kill. Shrugging its shoulders slightly, the gold Elite ignited its sword, and made a come hither motion with its free hand.

Astrid felt the ache in her arms become enhanced tenfold, as well as the dull pain of the Elite stomping on her thigh become all the more noticeable. A thousand knives stabbed into her from all areas, and her throat was parched with thirst. Two hours of fighting Centaurs and then the skirmish with the Elites had taken it all out of her. Her mind dimly remembered a charm for water, but it slipped away, replaced by the haze that now overtook all her thoughts. Weakly, she limped forward, before her left leg gave out and she had to latch onto a nearby tree. A burst of short snorts from in front of her made it clear that the Elite was in fact, laughing at her. But no anger rose from Astrid's chest at this. She hadn't any energy left. Instead, she felt despair, and nothing more. With a heavy heart, Astrid made another small step forward, mentally reciting all her goodbyes, lamenting what she'd missed, and apologizing for her part in causing this mess. Fate had finally caught up, and so she would go to her death.

A roar suddenly sounded from behind her, a roar that Astrid still remembered despite her absence from Berk for the last seven years or so. The roar of a Deadly Nadder. Astrid almost laughed. She'd killed almost twenty centaurs and slaughtered four Elites singlehandedly. Now, she was willingly walking into the hands of another Elite while being blindsided by a Nadder. The irony of the situation was not lost on her, as she reminisced being taught to stay in a dragon's blind spot by Gobber. Retribution indeed.

As a result, Astrid was not altogether prepared when the winged reptile suddenly landed in front of her and flicked its tail out, slapping her to the ground, then turning to the Elite and firing a blast of fire _at it_. Her mouth fell open, as the heat of the powerful, sparking flames washed over her cold body and the Elite struggled to hold it off, parrying the blasts with its sword. After taking two hits, its Shield flared blue, then disappeared in a blast of sparks. With a short whistle, the Nadder flicked its tail, sending a yellowish spike into the head of the Elite. With a loud clang, the spike deflected off the helmet, but not before knocking out its target and sending it sailing into the bushes.

The blonde witch's momentary relief was cut short, as the Nadder turned to her straight away after that. The blue scales on its body shimmered in the moonlight, a pair of bright eyes gazing at her. Scrambling frantically, Astrid struggled to raise her wand and-

"_Human, do not shoot._"

Astrid froze. _Did it just…?_

"_Do not shoot human, I have no intention of harming you._"

She was definitely hallucinating now, wasn't she? A talking dragon? What planet was she on, those things didn't exist!

"_I assure you, you are awake. Now we must move, before my brothers and their human halves close in._" The Nadder pointed a leathery wing to the rest of the battlefield. Astrid followed. Indeed, the lights of Elite armour were moving steadily towards their position. If they stayed, there was no doubt as to what would happen. And she had no wish to go through that again.

As the Nadder turned to stalk off, Astrid tried to stand, only to feel a numbness in her lower region. Looking down, her eyes widened when she saw a region down her entire left thigh, swollen and red, with a white patch in the middle shaped like an Elite's foot. "I-I can't walk," she rasped.

The blue dragon paused, before turning back to Astrid and walking. As it neared, Astrid's hands instinctively went to her wand. The Nadder stopped, seeming to sigh and roll its eyes as it looked as Astrid.

"_Human, you have to trust me to get you out of here._"

"Why should I trust you? Y-you've _killed_ hundreds of our people. What's to say you won't drop me out of the sky?"

"_You should trust me, because _he_ is waking up. And when he does, we're both dead. So please, get on._" The Nadder spread her wings and lowered herself to the ground, getting ready to spring up and take off. Yet, Astrid stayed where she was, evaluating the situation. How could the dragon even expect her to trust it? A three century long war had done nothing but bad things for interspecies relations. And now it had just demonstrated its ability to kill. Too many people had been lost to the dragons, these mindless beasts.

Yet, Astrid noticed several things. Firstly, the gold Elite was really beginning to wake up, but the dragon stayed where it was, refusing to move. Secondly, its tail spikes were down, and finally, it faced away from Astrid, looking towards the gold Elite's unconscious form worriedly after every few minutes.

_It trusts me_, Astrid realized. _This damn dragon saved me, and it's trusting me despite the fact that I don't trust it. It's risking its life just by not facing me._ Guilt washed over her as she limped towards the dragon and got ready to climb on. No! It was not guilt, it was… practicality. With some difficulty and assistance from the dragon, Astrid was finally comfortably seated in the ridge between two horns. It felt _so good _to sit down!

A low growl interrupted her pleasure, and immediately Astrid turned to see the gold Elite running towards them, igniting its sword again. Patting the side of the dragon's neck, Astrid shouted, "Go girl! Go!" At the sound of this command, the Nadder flapped its wings once, the leathery membranes generating upward force and throwing up great clouds of snow. In two more flaps, the Nadder and its rider were airborne, leaving the Elite to stew in its rage.


End file.
